


Quinzel

by dalyons322



Category: Gotham City Sirens (Comics)
Genre: F/F, somewhat inspired by jessica jones, the better version of another fic i had lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:53:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9392330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalyons322/pseuds/dalyons322
Summary: Set a few years into the future where she's like in her late 20s, early 30s.Harley has never been one to take action. At least, not unless it's an emergency. But, you know, life never likes to take it easy, so... once more, she must don the familiar red-black color scheme. Oy vey.





	

**Author's Note:**

> SO after writing, I realized this was what I wanted 'hear our cry' to be (hence why you don't see it anymore), but certain things have been kept and certain things were removed. But anyways, here ya go. I'll try to be more active, at least with this and 'Drabbles', but I can't promise anything. lol

The first thing she sees is the blue sky. It’s blank, which is strange to her. Usually, there are clouds or maybe there’s a breeze, but… nothing. That’s also the first thing she feels: nothing. She feels emptiness, sorrow, dullness. She can’t explain it, but it’s like… something just can’t be bothered within her. She could try to elicit a reaction from herself but she knows it wouldn’t be genuine. Fear then takes over. She’s been told from time and time again not to let her emotions get the best of her, but something about that mindset always rubbed her the wrong way. After all, her feelings are caused her to get mixed up with--

Oh, god. She swore to never think about him, to never hear about him. And all of a sudden, that’s all she can hear: his chilling laugh. His misleading quips.

“You wanna play, darling?”

That’s all she can feel: the weight of his extremely lean body on hers. His breath on her slender neck.

“I’ll make this feel nice, honey.”

That’s all she can think about: his calloused hands. His intimidating demeanor. Him.

“I told you to stay out of the way, you stupid girl!”

It hits her all at once: there is no escape. All those mazes he had a fascination with when they were together seemed to be real because each time she found herself moving past him, really, she was only three feet away from him.

She--just, she wants him gone. She’s tired of still being this infatuated with him. She knows it’s not healthy, she does. But why does it feel like she’s not meant to be anywhere else?

Then, without warning, she’s in a dark room. She can’t see or hear anything. All she knows is there’s a gun in her hands.

No, not this dream.

The lights turn on, far away, suggesting that she’s in some sort of warehouse. But she’s not alone. She sees him, tied up, laughing maniacally.

Please, god, not this dream.

She knows there’s a better way to end this. A way without… killing him. But she can’t help herself from stomping over to him, cocking her gun, and pointing it right between his eyes.

No, no, no, no, no.

She hesitates for a second, which causes the man to laugh even harder. Would killing him really change things for the better or would it send everyone in Gotham into utter war?

There’s--there’s a better way to do this. You don’t have to do it.

She decides against not killing him. After all, in a sense, he killed her. Why shouldn’t she repay the favor? And so what if Gotham turns into utter chaos? It hasn’t stopped them before. For a split second, however, she doesn’t initially feel it. Then she feels the trigger being pulled.

“No!” Harley sprang up from the bed she shared with her love.

“What? What is it?” Ivy asked worriedly.

Harley groaned, trying to forget the awful images she just saw.

“I had that stupid fucking dream again. Except it was so much more different this time around.”

“How so?”

“I dunno. It just was.”

“Huh… you think you need to see Crane again?”

“God no. The dream wasn’t that different, I just--I don’t know.”

They both just sat there in the deafening silence before Harley broke the silence.

“I’m gonna grab a drink.”

“Is that really the best thing you can do right now? I mean, Harls, you just--”

“I know when I’m fine, Red. I just need like water or somethin. Milk, even.” Harley chuckled.

“.... Okay, then. You better come back here, though.” Ivy teased, half-tiredly and half-playfully.

Harley was almost out of earshot to hear that but not before she could give a “I don’t got anywhere else to go!”. She knows she should stay in bed, let Ivy’s voice soothe her to sleep. But something about tonight was… off. She can’t quite put her finger on it.

Before she knows it, she’s in the kitchen of their apartment that she bought years ago. The apartment as a whole is... difficult to explain. It’s kind of a mesh between both Ivy and her. You have god knows how many plants growing everywhere. From the ground, in various books, hell, even the windows started sprouting some flowers. But you also have scattered jack-in-the-boxes from a couple years ago that Harley never bothered to pick up. But nothing compares to the creepy porcelain doll collection that she has. At first, it was a souvenir from the toy shop they robbed (there was a gang… it’s a whole other story), but soon, Harley began taking them left and right, claiming that “each one is getting cuter”. And this is just the living room.

By the time she makes her way towards the kitchen, virtually nothing has changed from the other room: multiple plants from every which way, various knick-knacks scattered everywhere.

But it feels… right, to have this kind of mess in their apartment. It feels more like home than any other place that she used to reside in. She opens a few of the cabinet doors, looking for the spare bottle of whiskey she had lying around in these compartments. She knows she said she’d get milk, but after the nightmare, she needs something a helluva lot stronger.

She wasn’t able to find it but she did find a half-empty bottle of beer somewhere in the back and decided it was good enough for the time being. She took the cap off and chugged nearly everything that was left in the bottle. 

‘I’ll make this feel nice, honey.’ She can still hear his words, taste his smell. Maybe Ivy was right, maybe she did need to see Crane. At least, just for this instance. But could she really stand being a patient once more?

Before she was able to make up her mind, the phone rang. She turned to look at the nearest clock.

2:03 AM.

She scoffed. It was too early for this shit. The phone kept on ringing, annoying the shit out of Harley. Finally, it stopped.

‘Thank God’, she thought.

It then went to voicemail. Although she was tired as shit and nearly ready for bed once more, nothing could make her not recognize Selina’s voice. But… something was off.

“Harley! Ivy! You have to get down here!” Selina exclaimed, frantically. Just then, the sound of a bomb went off, not only in the voicemail, but she could hear loud enough that it practically shook her apartment.

“Ed’s bombing nearly all of Gotham Square! You have--” Another bomb went off. Harley held her breath to see if Selina would say anything.

“Ugh, people are dying! You and Ivy need to get here!” She said finally before the line went dead. She tried to sober herself up and walk towards the window. She couldn’t see everything but she saw Gotham Square lit up, like Ra’s Al Ghul’s place, with smoke surrounding the entire block.

Oh, god.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll explain what changed and what stayed.
> 
> WHAT CHANGED:
> 
> •This was originally meant to be told through all three of the Sirens' perspective but when writing this, I enjoyed through Harley's perspective too much, so I changed it to that.
> 
> • The conflict also has changed. At least to how I want it to play out. It was originally meant to be a Suicide Squad-esque type of conflict (bad vs evil) and while most of the central villains have remained the villains, I've changed the motives.
> 
> WHAT STAYED:
> 
> •The tone has remained what I want it to be. I always imagined that the Gotham City Sirens would be perfect if they were in a noir type of setting (please give us that, GCS movie), so that's what ended up being.
> 
> •Batman has always remained missing. Even though Bruce would NEVER leave Gotham under any circumstance, at least he would never leave without an assload of security, I kinda liked him being missing from a narrative point of view. So there's that.


End file.
